Candy Licker (30 page)

But the thug gangsta on the ground … Knowledge studied the corpse. Its gear and its style. This kid was all East Coast. Straight out of Harlem. Hurricane-sanctioned and Hurricane-sent. Knowledge took it all in, and shit got as clear as spring-water. If he'da lost the trial, the Mob would've hit him. But if
he'd won … then it was supposed to be Hurricane's man right here who snuffed him out.

Knowledge nodded at the Italian hit man, then stepped past the dead body and headed up the stairs. He knew exactly what to do when there was heat on his back. He'd have to call the hotel desk and extend his stay. He'd also have to call Jadeah and make sure Candy was cool. He'd need at least a few more days to do everything that needed to be done. Hitting Hurricane where it hurt had always been part of his plan. But after today wiping him out—no, totally annihilating his ass would be a more accurate term.

That courtroom glare was back in Knowledge's eye, and his brain clicked into whir. The first order of business was to see about Candy. Then he'd have to find an obscure little Internet café or maybe a public library. He'd need uninterrupted time and just a little privacy to access all of Hurricane's accounts. He thought about the financial nooks and crannies where his boss's funds had been stashed, and began adding a twist to his original plan. There were hundreds of accounts he'd have to consider. Some he'd bulk up and leave a trail that the feds couldn't possibly miss. Others he'd tap into and divert offshore under a few dummy names. Whatever he did, at the end of the day it would all bear out the same. Knowledge Graham and those he rolled with were going to be set. And Hurricane Jackson, that half-ass pimp and niggah out of pocket, would be all out of money. And more important, he'd be all out of time.

G
rief was kicking my ass.

First Mama and now Dominica.

I don't remember taking off my torn dress or crawling up the stairs and climbing into Hurricane's bed. I do remember having a nightmare about Dominica and crying out loud during the night. Dom had been my one true friend. The only somebody I could count on to love me no matter what, even more than my own sister did. That thing hurt me, I ain't gone lie. Knowing Dominica had never hurt anyone in her life and that I'd never see her again was like a knife in my heart. Ripping all the way through my back.

Sometime in the night I heard the bedroom door slam. My heart thumped and I was instantly on alert, even with my eyes closed. Somebody laughed and tripped over a shoe or something, and then Hurricane was hollering my name. “Candy!” Just the sound of that niggah's footsteps put fear in my heart. “Get up outta my fuckin’ bed, Candy.”

I pushed the covers off and sat up, hoping that big-ass bandage
covering half my face would make him feel a little sympathy for me.

Not even.

“There's two kinds of bitches I can't tolerate, Candy” Hurricane explained after I had climbed out the bed and was standing in front of him in my panties and nightgown. “Bitches who talk too fuckin much and bitches who ain't got no gratitude.”

I stood there shaking so bad my damn knees kept kissing. I didn't know if he was gonna hit me again or find something to rape me with. I caught myself hoping it would be a rape because I didn't have it in me to take another ass-whipping tonight.

“Take my shit off,” he commanded. “Strip outta that two-hundred-dollar tease-towel, and give up that thong too.”

I didn't know where he was going, but I knew where I'd end up. Humiliated. Humiliated and in some kind of pain. That was Hurricane's MO. It was the only thing his twisted ass could do with a woman.

With my stuff on the floor, I stood in front of him naked and waiting.

“Get out my house,” he said. It came out so low I wasn't sure I had heard him right. I knew good and damn well I hadn't heard him right.

“Huh?”

He said it again. “The front door, Candy. You don't appreciate the shit you got going here with me, then roll, baby. You let that stupid-ass jawn talk shit about your man. You lucky you ain't go down with her. I bet that bitch ain't tell you she sucked my dick, did she? Nah, I bet she ain't tell you that.”

I knew that was a lie. Tears swelled in me again, and at that moment if somebody had'a passed a sistah a gun, I would
have killed Hurricane on the spot. There was no way that Dom had sucked Hurricane's little baby dick. First of all, she was my friend, and second of all, Hurricane was too ashamed to let somebody like Dom see his half-a-joint. Forget about sucking it.

“What about my sister?”

He grinned and looked toward the lounge area. Caramel was slumped on the couch with her knees up, wearing one of my silk gowns. She looked high as hell, but at least she had enough pity on me to take the gown off and toss it my way. “I'm staying right here,” she drawled like she was coming up out of a nod. “You don't do … shit for me, Candy. Roll bitch … roll.”

“Caramel …,” I begged slipping the gown over my head. “Mellie, please. Come go with me,” I cried.

And that's when he hit me.

That maniac snatched me so fast I lost my breath. My chest hurt so deep I coughed and moaned, but then I started fighting. Hurricane was yanking me toward the door by my arm, but I wasn't leaving my sister.

I grabbed that fucker with both hands and snatched a bunch of hairs off his chest. His eyes got little and he slammed his fist into my face, and the next thing I knew I was on the floor and that niggah had me by the gown, dragging me out the room and down that long-ass hall, out of the middle.

“Caramel!” I fought and screamed, my arms and legs waving in the air like a damn crab, the skin on my back tearing and burning as he dragged me along the cold floor. “CARAMEL, HELP!”

My silk gown was up around my neck, and now it slid right
over my head and left me butt-ass naked again. That didn't bother Cane. He flung that five-hundred-dollar bad boy on the floor like it was a toilet bowl rag, then grabbed me by the hair and turned back around and started pulling me outta there caveman-style.

My scalp was on fire. I tried to use my feet to scoot backward. I needed to keep up with him to put some slack in my hair because my head felt like a cannon had hit it. That niggah looked back at me and just got meaner. He started pulling me in a swivel motion, slinging me from side to side, wall to wall as I begged him to let go of my hair. The only sounds in the whole house were his grunts and my screams. By the time he got me to the foyer I was slobbering in pain and I just knew I was bald.

I was praying out loud for somebody to come and get this niggah off of me when Hurricane opened that front door and rolled me out like I was an old carpet. The ground was so cold and wet I forgot my pain and fear. I was trying to get on my feet when I heard the door slam behind me.

I straightened up and clutched myself, standing under the awning and crying as I looked out at what was now my world. It had started snowing and everything was white. I had nowhere to go and nobody I could call. The nearest neighbor was at least a mile away, and I knew I'd never make it without something on my feet. The wind blew a mist of soft snow over me and I shivered like I'd been hit with ice water. With my arms crossed over my titties, I dragged the doormat with me and squatted down to huddle in the corner near the front door. At least my back and one side of my body was protected from the bite of
the wind and my feet were up off the concrete. I closed my eyes and thought about all the cold nights I'd spent snuggling up with Caramel on a filthy mattress. Instead of learning from our shitty childhood she had turned her back on me like we wasn't blood, and none of the hard times we had gone through together even mattered. I thought about Mama, and how even when she thought she'd been schooling me and preparing me for the game of life, she hadn't taught me half of the things I needed to know the most. And you know I thought about Dominica. My girl. Fucking slaughtered. That thing hurt my heart so bad … so bad. I wouldn't let myself think about Knowledge. About that good thing in his heart that had me loving him so much. I couldn't let myself think about how de-liciously he loved me back either.

I don't know how long I stayed there, squatting on the ground and shivering in the bitter cold. I didn't know how long I could last out there butt naked, the same way I had come in this world. I know I had stopped crying though. I was hurting too much for tears, and them shits were useless anyway.

I didn't even move when I heard the door creak open. My teeth were clicking together and ice was on the tip of my nose. Hurricane musta thought I would be banging down the door by now, but he had tormented me and tortured me enough. I'd stay my ass right here and freeze to death before I gave that motherfucker one more ounce of satisfaction.

“Candy!” I heard somebody call me, then Peaches peeped her head out the door. “Get your ass back in here, girl! All them niggahs 'sleep!”

Peaches had to help me stand up. My body was so cold and stiff I could barely feel my legs or my feet. “Here,” she said, and
threw a housecoat over my shoulders. I didn't even feel it on me as I dragged my frozen feet across the floor.

Peaches snuck me into her bedroom and put a pile of blankets on the bottom of her junky-ass closet. Long Jon was in the bed snoring, so she worked quietly and in the dark. Peaches dressed me just like I was a baby. She put me in a pink sweat suit and pulled a pair of thick tube socks on my feet, and I crawled my ass under the covers in that walk-in closet most gratefully. The last thing I remember seeing was Peaches closing the closet door, and then there was nothingness and I was out.

I
couldn't tell you how many hours I slept in that closet. However many it was, it wasn't long enough. I woke up with my whole body banging, especially my cheek. I didn't even realize where I was until I rolled over and felt one of Long Jon's boots. My side was hurting. I was laying on a hanger, and I pulled it from under me and bent the hook part back until it was straight. Just in case.

I didn't hear any noise coming from the room and I was scared to open the door and let Long Jon find me. I had to pee, though, so I twisted the knob silently and pushed the door until there was a tiny crack.

“Come on out,” Peaches said flatly. “Ain't nobody in here except me.”

I limped out of the closet, too sore to stand up straight. Peaches was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her unmade bed.

“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked. My mouth was swollen
and tasted like old blood. Peaches nodded, and when I went inside, I didn't let myself look toward the mirror. I didn't even wanna see all the damage that had been done to me.

When I came out the bathroom Peaches was still sitting there.

“Thanks for letting me in last night,” I said, “but I gotta go get my sister.”

“Queen Asia is pregnant,” Peaches stated flatly. “I'm about to be somebody's goddamn grandmother.”

I thought about Caramel again and my whole body sagged. I felt real bad for Asia being pregnant, for real I did. But that was something she could take care of if she wanted to. Abortions were still legal and that was her option. But Caramel, on the other hand, could be in permanent trouble. At this very moment she was laying up with Hurricane, and no matter how dumb she was or how fucked up she'd been treating me, she was still my sister and I had to get her away from him.

“Do you know whose baby it is?” I asked. It was the only thing I could think of to say.

Peaches looked at me with death in her eyes. “Hurricane's.”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “I doubt it,” I said, grabbing my hanger and moving toward the door. “ 'Cause that niggah's dick don't even reach.”

I
opened that door and got straight bum-rushed. It felt like forty hands had snatched me, and I started swinging and stabbing with my hanger in every direction. That crazy bitch Peaches had set me up. At least that's what I thought
at first. And then I saw her man Long Jon. He was standing against the wall laughing as they bent my ass down to the floor.

“You fittin to get fucked!” he said as I tried to jig my hanger in some eyeballs. “And that niggah Knowledge?” He laughed again. “Don't worry about him. He ain't comin’ back.” I started scratching and spitting. Rolling and dipping. Doing whatever I could do to defend myself. I stabbed somebody in the arm with my hanger. He hollered and capped my face.